In The End
by Kirin Skydancer
Summary: Logan carried Victor, even if it was just a memory.
1. Chapter 1

I didn't know how it happened at the time, but looking back it was painfully obvious. He had never liked losing control, not since killing our father. He had always had someone protecting him. He never learned what it was like to feel helpless, weak and pitiful. Jimmy was still young, even after living for over a hundred years.

He hated what I had become. He thought he was losing me. Instead of making me realize what I had become, he had made me hate him. I wanted to make him feel what I had felt. I wanted to make him understand what it was like to have no one, so I killed her—without knowing that he already knew what it felt like. Now, looking back, it was obvious. It was to late to take it all back. I had become an animal, and he couldn't remember that I was his brother. I had lost all of my redeeming qualities.

I had thought I could be a lone wolf, and I had felt like I did well. But now, with the Brotherhood gone, I am alone. The Weapon X program had found me, I couldn't fight off an army. Not on my own. They had always wanted Jimmy—Logan, not me. I was not…what they were looking for. But Logan was safe behind the walls of Xavier's, and I was easy prey. I ran, after months of being locked in a cage like the animal I had become.

It was far to similar to that night, long ago in the middle of winter, but this time I didn't have a sickly little brother slowing me down. My feet left bloody streaks in the snow—ripping open just as fast as they healed. The snow pelted down on me, dripping through my now short hair and dripping off my ribs.

The pain was similar to a different time, after that night in the snow. It reminded me of mud filled trenches, and the stench of festering wounds. WWI was long for most of the infantry. Long nights, leaning sleeplessly against the walls of frozen, stinking holes in the ground. Long winters, filled with frostbite. Long sprints across open ground. It wasn't long for us. The rats, the mud, the infection, none of it bothered us as much as it should have. We spent the nights playing cards, filtering out the complaints of our fellow soldiers, and spent the days killing.

It was perfect in the way that all wars were perfect, made better by premonition that it would not be ending soon. We spent years on the front lines, immortal and unrecognized. Jimmy—Logan started getting twitchy. The fighting was getting to personal for his tastes, especially after that Christmas. He didn't like the way the killing dragged on, but he stayed on the front lines.

I pushed him into war after war for years. I did it to keep him safe, because the memory of that night in the woods, when normal people found out who we were, was still fresh.

A/N

I'm not sure I like the way this turned out. It's a little more scattered then I wanted it to be. Maybe I'll keep it a oneshot, unless people want me to keep going?

Please review!


	2. Chapter 2

I couldn't go much farther. Whatever they had done to me was slowing me down. My heart pounded in my chest and my legs burned. I should have died miles ago. Given up and dropped into the soft snow, but I didn't have it in me. I had a destination. It wasn't far now, just a couple yards of trees and a fence. If I could get over the wall, the security system would keep them out. As long as it didn't kill me, which was a possibility.

Hopefully my new appearance; short hair, clean shaven, emaciated, would trick the cameras. Hopefully the Professor was still game with giving people a second chance. Hopefully Ji…Logan didn't kill me on the stop. I'd had worse odds in the past. A slim chance was still a chance—and better then the usual. It wasn't necessarily suicide.

The snow suddenly turned rotten, and I dropped through the crust. My first reaction was to open my mouth to howl in pain. The only sound I managed was a hiss of breath. I stumbled, skinning my arms on the rough crystals, and pushed my self to my feet again. I stood under the trees, my head suddenly light. My vision spun and darkened around the edges, and I stumbled again. My feet started moving, sinking up to the knee with each step. Still blind I pushed off the trees until my hands met stone.

My fingers scrambled against the wall, looking for purchase. I growled, trying to dig the over-cut stubs of my nails into the wall. The dogs were getting closer; a few stray bullets turned the rocks to dust. The shots were wide; the men were still to far away. I blinked hard, trying to clear the remaining blurriness from my eyes. The wall swam into focus and I began to climb. My arms burned and shook, my feet were to cold to feel the stones cut them. I levered myself over, dropping onto the ground on the other side.

Immediately a camera whirred to life and several red lasers took aim. I let my head fall into the snow.

"Identify yourself." The voice was unfamiliar, which was not surprising. I didn't care enough about the stupid brats to learn their voices.

"Fuck you." I attempted to snarl, managing a whisper that was lost in the snow.

"Please identify yourself." The voice asked again.

"He doesn't look good, maybe we should get him." Another voice said in the background.

"Go ask the professor." The first voice again, "Who are you?"

It was a kid. A pair of kids. They didn't seem to recognize me. I attempted to raise my head. The dogs had stopped on the other side of the wall and were barking loudly. The men were swearing. I couldn't get my face out of the snow, and stopped trying. Hopefully the brats made a decision before the men did. I let my eyes close, giving in to the darkness that had been waiting their for weeks. Hopefully the X-men got me before the others.

A/N Once again, it's really short. Hopefully the next chapter will be longer, but I can't promise anything. Also, if anyone thinks Victor is to out of character please tell me. He isn't supposed to be a changed man, just a desperate man. I don't want to go all 'nice guy' on him.

Also, I have a original piece that I'm working on, the URL is on my profile, please take a look if you have a chance.


	3. Chapter 3

I came to slowly, opening my eyes to see an unusually clean room. The walls were a mix of stainless steel and some white material, both scrubbed shiny. The only sound, other then my breathing, was the hiss and click and beep of a variety of different machines. I let my eyes close again, and slowly moved my toes. A tingling sensation swept up my legs, strong enough to border on pain. I flexed my ankles, my knees. Nothing seemed to damaged. Not beyond repair at least. I opened my eyes again, and attempted to swing my legs off the bed. Several of the noisy machines skidded closer.

I turned my attention to the annoying glowing screens, and decided that they weren't doing anything. I jerked the IV out of my arm, covering the vein with my thumb until the skin healed. I removed the rest of the wires, tossing them at the machines. I could have broken them, but I wanted to make a good impression. The room was much quieter, the only noise coming from the camera above the door. I rolled off the bed and limped towards the door, testing the knob. It rattled, but didn't open. I glared at the camera and slunk towards the bed.

Before I reached the other side of the room, I was stopped by a rush of warm air. Between my feet was a metal heating grate. I leaned against the wall, watching as the blacked skin on my feet and lower legs gained color. After my lower body was warm I knelt and pressed my fingers against the metal. My claws were still filed down stubs, looking more normal then they had since I was a teenager.

I attempted to concentrate enough to get them to elongate, but my mind drifted to quickly, and the effort only irritated me. I gave up and slumped against the wall, letting my eyes close again.

"Victor." I jerked away at the voice, leaping to my feet and spinning around. The Professor was standing at the door, flanked by the white haired one and a blue gorilla-like man.

"Relax. We won't hurt you." He held out his hands, palms up, and smiled slightly.

I crossed my arms and narrowed my eyes. The impulse to attack and run forced me onto the balls of my feet and my heart race.

"Cat got your tongue?" The blue man smiled maliciously, revealing fangs that almost rivaled mine.

The professor laid a hand on his shoulder, "Don't provoke him, Hank. He hasn't done anything."

Though the professor didn't say it, and 'yet' hung in the air between us.

"If I wanted to kill you, you would already be dead." I growled, glaring at _Hank_.

"I'm surprised you can string a sentence together." His eyebrows rose, "You don't seem like the brainy type."

I leapt at him, teeth bared, with the intent of ripping the smug smile off his face. Before I could reach him the professor raised a hand and I jerked to a stop.

"We will not allow you to stay here alive if you attack us." His voice was calm, almost friendly.

"Maybe a don't want to be alive." I spat, and immediately wished I had kept my mouth shut.

The white haired one raised a sculpted eyebrow, looking at the professor in surprise. I suddenly remembered trying to kill her, the images exceptionally vivid.

"That is not the truth, Victor. I know why you are here." He turned to his guards, "He will not harm me, you may leave." He gestured to the door. Almost before it swung shut he spoke again. "Your brother will not be happy when he finds out you are here."

"I don't give a shit." I attempted to pull out of the mental grip of the professor and failed.

He looked almost sad, "You do care. You care very much." He sat on the end of the bed. "You love him."

"I want him dead." I hissed, struggling harder against the invisible force.

"Perhaps." He dropped into a thoughtful silence, looking at the floor. "That is not the reason you are here though."

"Really? Why did I come here then?" I relaxed, hoping that he would forget to restrain me.

"I can see your thoughts, Victor. Or perhaps you prefer Sabertooth?" He looked up, searching my face, "No, very well then." He folded his hands carefully in his lap. "You are here because you love your brother more then you hate him, because you are alone, and because you are not—despite what everyone seems to think—an animal."

I opened my mouth to reply, but paused. "Get out of my head." Was all I managed.

"If that is what you want." The professor's eyes were twinkling, a smile was creeping onto his lips. He stood and turned to go, but turned back. "If you want to stay, there are conditions."

I straightened, surprised to find that I was no longer restrained. "Yeah?" I immediately narrowed my eyes, cursing myself for being to eager.

The professor held up a hand and began counting off his fingers, "You will not tell any of the students that you are Sabertooth. This means that Logan will have to protect your identity. If they learn who you are, which I do not expect most of them will, there will be a panic—which is unacceptable."

"What if Ji..Logan can't do it?" I leaned against the wall, lips twitching into a small smile.

"He will. Though I expect that fighting between the two of you is unavoidable." He rubbed his chin, "I think it would be best to tell the students that you are brothers. It is the truth, and it will make fighting seem less" He paused to choose a word, "violent."

I shrugged, "What ever you want, Chuck."

He smiled, eyes crinkling. I chose to ignore him rather then do something more physical, he needed to be alive for this deal to work.

He held up his hand again, one finger folded down, "You will not swear, or bring alcohol or tobacco onto the campus."

"That's a load of bull!" I growled, "Ji..Logan does all that time."

"I have warned your brother about his behavior. It does not go unpunished."

When I tried to reply he cut me off, "You will not terrorize the students. That means you must keep your 'claws' at their current length."

"They don't stay this way." I attempted to explain, "I can't cut them with a pair of finger nail…"

"Find something that will cut them then." He snapped, once again holding up his fingers, "You will keep up an acceptable appearance that does not make the students realize who you are, and you will help with chores until we can find an opening in the staff."

"Chores? I don't do fucking chores." I snarled.

"Then you can leave." The professor indicated the door, "I am quite sure Hank would escort you out."

I remembered the cold, snow, and men with guns outside the walls of the mansion. "Fine, I'll do your stupid chores."

He nodded, "Very well. There are clothes in one of the drawers. I will be waiting outside when you are ready."

A/N This chapter is longer then the last few (thankfully), I'm hoping that the rest will be this long as well. Once again, if anyone seems to out of character, please tell me and I will try to fix it. Also, please review. It takes about a minute, and makes me think that people are reading my story.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Thank you for all the reviews! They literally made my day. It's nice to know that people like the story, and constructive criticism is always welcome!

The professor was waiting in the hall outside the room, talking quietly with his guards. They stopped speaking as soon as I entered the room, looking at me nervously.

"Logan is on his way." The white haired one said, "We thought it was best to meet where the students wouldn't hear any arguments."

I examined the hall. It was built out of the same materials of the room, stainless steel, and reflected the lights from the ceiling. At the end was a pair of doors, sliding, that would most likely lead to an elevator.

"Victor." The professor reached out to put a hand on my shoulder.

I grabbed his wrist, shoving it away from me. The white haired woman and the gorilla both moved closer, ready to restrain me. I dropped the professor's hand, quickly backing out of reach.

After a moment of surprised silence he began again, "Logan will not remember you." He took a step towards me, "He does not remember anything of your life, s he will think that anything you say is a lie."

"I'm telling the truth." I tried to take another step away, but my heels hit the wall behind me.

"I know. But he does not." The doors of the elevator opened as the professor spoke.

"Figure something out then. Quickly, or your plan is going to be shot to shit." I growled, my eyes focusing on the figure at the end of the hall.

"What the hell is he doing here?" Jimmy rushed down the hall, pushed the white haired woman out of the way and shoved me against the wall.

I grinned down at him, brining up my knee to kick him away. He anticipated my move, and I felt the blades extend from his fists and side through my shoulders. I shoved off the wall and spun us around, pushing against his throat with my forearm.

"Nice to see you too." I grinned through the pain, leaning my weight against my arm.

"Boys." The professor attempted to push us away from each other, but was prevented by the walls of the hallway. "Please calm down." He grabbed my shoulder, attempting to turn me around.

I shoved his hand away, "I was just saying hello." I stepped back, feeling Jimmy's claws slip out of my shoulders. Blood ran down them, spattering the floor.

Jimmy slumped to the floor, panting. "What the hell is this?" He snarled, glaring at me, "Why is he here?"

"He is here because I allow him to be here." The professor edged between Jimmy and me in an attempt to quell further violence. "He holds the key to your memories, Logan."

"He's lying." Jimmy replied, picking himself up, "He would never help us."

The professor sighed, "Victor cannot lie to me, Logan. You know that."

"He's tricking you. He's an animal." Jimmy lunged at me again, sweeping the professor out of the way.

I rolled with the force of his tackle, kicking Jimmy off of me. His head hit the wall with a crack, and he lay motionless for several seconds.

"Remember what I told you, Victor. You will have to gain his trust." The professor had moved down the hall.

"He won't trust me. He won't listen to me." I lifted his limp form off the ground, "His mind is made up."

"He can change." The woman spoke softly.

I spun around, still holding my brother by the shoulders. He stirred slightly. "I know him. I've known him for a whole hell of a lot longer then you have. I know what he's like." I grinned and tossed him down the hall again. This time the metal dented, and the gorilla growled in disapproval.

"Don't worry. He'll recover." I spat, stalking toward his prone form.

"This is not the way to make him trust you." The professor called after me. "Fighting doesn't solve anything."

"I'm an animal, professor. Didn't you hear? This is what animals do." I reached for Jimmy again, for his throat this time.

"Stop!" I froze, hand still outstretched. "I will not allow this to continue."

"I'm not asking for permission." I attempted to move, but was held in place.

The professor turned me to face him, " Why are you doing this?" He asked.

"I hate him." The words didn't even convince me of my feelings, "He ruined everything." I sounded like a child, whining about a petty problem.

"I don't believe that. You have never hated him."

"Get out of my head, old man." I snarled, "You don't know anything."

He shrugged, "If you keep fighting, I will not be able to explain our plan to Logan."

"It's not my plan." I spat, "It's your damned plan."

Jimmy stumbled to his feet behind me, and I attempted to turn and face him. The professor held me where I was, signaling to the white haired woman. She rushed past me, and I heard Jimmy's startled breath.

"Victor is staying. My decision is final." The professor said calmly, allowing me to face my brother. "While he is here, the pair of you will be civil toward each other. You will act like brothers. You will not let the students learn of Victor's identity." The professor stared at Logan, "He will help you learn about your past."

"I'm leaving then." Logan tried to shake the woman off, but she clung on. "I'm not going to be around him."

"Who will protect the students then?" The professor's lips twitched, "If you leave, they will be at his mercy."

Logan bristled as the thought. "Fine. I agree." He turned to me, "Don't do anything stupid, Sabertooth."

"I don't know who you're talking about. My name is Victor Creed." I smirked at him, "I'm your brother."

He attempted to leap at me, yet again, but the woman stopped him. She clung to his waist like some kind of parasite.

"Let go, 'Ro." HE growled.

"No." Her voice was still calm, though her eyes were beginning to turn white. "This ends now, Logan. Be a bigger person then he is."

Logan stilled, apparently calmed by her words. The gorilla traipsed past us, pressing the button for the elevator, and the professor released me. I took a stumbling step toward Logan, surprised at the sudden lack of resistance. He watched me warily.

"Better go protect the kids, runt, or I might get to them." I twitched toward the elevator, and he leapt back. His arms stretched out to block my path, and I laughed.

Jimmy glared at me, but stepped slowly into the elevator. I started to follow him, but the professor called me back.

"Maybe it is best if the two of you do not stay in the same space for to long."

I shrugged, "Your plan, not mine." But I waited as the door closed.

A/N Sorry if the time period was confusing. This is set after X3, so the professor is back. Also, because of his telepathy he was able to see what Victor was thinking, which explains why he knew about Logan's past. Victor was thinking about it. As usually, let me know if you don't like something (character portrayal, grammar, spelling, etc.). Please review!

Disclaimer (It's about time to put one of these): I do not own X-Men


	5. Chapter 5

As soon as I stepped off the elevator I was hit by a wall of smells. I hadn't been in a place with so many people for a long time. The gorilla glanced over his shoulder at me, arching one eyebrow. I shook my head and followed him and the professor to where Logan was standing, at the end of yet another hall. We were the only ones in this part of the building, the sounds of the rest of the mansion's inhabitants were muted by well insulated walls.

"We don't have any open rooms in the main building." The white haired woman stood between me and the door, "But there is room in the shed and the greenhouse."

I wondered if it was a ploy to get me farther away from the students, but judging by the hundreds of different people's scents, I guessed that it was the truth.

"I can't share with Logan?" I asked in an attempt to get a rise out of him.

"No." He attempted to look menacing. "There isn't space, dick, or are you deaf."

I shrugged, refusing to rise to his insult, "Which one is nicer?"

The white haired woman replied, "The greenhouse is warmer, but father away. We don't heat the shed, and it's not insulated."

"I'll take the greenhouse." I tried to slip around her, but she moved to block my path, "What are you doing?" I narrowed my eyes.

"I have to come with you." She flashed a quick smile, "I'm used to dealing with violent, pugnacious men." She shot Jimmy a pointed look.

"I'm not pug..." He growled, "Damn you Sabertooth."

"Victor." The professor cut in, "You have to call him Victor."

Logan clenched his jaw in anger. "Fine." He crossed his arms and glowered at me. I smirked.

"I'll show you where it is then." The woman said, turning to open the door. Her hair flicked across my face when she did, and I flinched backward.

"I'll meet with you later today. Both of you." The professor nodded at Jimmy, "After lunch."

I followed the woman, passing through the door and into the mansion proper. Students glanced at us, turning to whisper to their friends. The level of sound dropped as they turned to look. I felt James come up behind me, shoving me forward.

"Get moving, Sab…Victor." He growled in my ear, pushing past me and walking towards a familiar face.

Rogue. I remembered her. She'd grown up since I had seen her last, still dressed like a nun though. When Jimmy got closer she smiled, gestured at me, asking a question. Jimmy shrugged, squaring his shoulders and moved past her, up the stairs.

"If you value your life, you won't bother Marie." The woman said, smiling at some of the younger students as we made our way towards the door.

"Wouldn't think of it." I twisted sideways as one of the teenaged boys brushed past, attempting to shove me with his shoulder. I stamped down on my reflexive strike, shoving my hands into my pockets

"Storm." A gangly man raced down the stairs, brandishing a wrench, "I fixed your heater. The whole top floor should be warmer now." He skidded to a halt in front of us, glancing at me before looking at Storm with a simpering, puppyish expression.

"Thank you, Forge." Storm smiled slightly at the man, "Are you planning on staying for a while longer?"

The man shrugged, "Maybe. There are still some systems here that I would like to take a look at."

"Any help you can give will be appreciated." She glanced at me, "This is Victor. Victor, this is Forge."

"Nice to meet you." He held out his hand.

I ignored him, and began moving toward to door. Storm followed me, apologizing over her shoulder to Forge.

"He's Logan's brother." She called.

Forge called back, "That explains it then."

I pushed the door open, holding it open reflexively for Storm. She looked surprised but didn't say anything. I smacked myself internally, old habits died hard though. I had spent most of my life holding doors open for people.

"The greenhouse in next to the mansion. Right over there." She pointed at a small, glass building to the right of the stairs. "You can usually get through a door over there, it's not as far of a walk, but it's frozen shut."

I grunted an affirmative and started towards the building.

"Victor." She called me back, "You're not wearing shoes."

I glanced down at my feet, wiggling my toes in the snow, "I can't feel them." I shrugged.

"Alright then." She arched an eyebrow in an amused way, "I'll have someone get you when lunch is ready."

I started towards the greenhouse again, and heard the door to the mansion close behind Storm as she went back inside. It was warmer now then it had been when I arrived, the snow was slowly turning to slush, and the air smelled like spring.

The ground around the glass building was nearly clear of snow, and the air inside was scented with plants. They were growing in neat rows of beds, mostly edible. Near the back was a smaller planting of flowering bushed and plants. I stalked through the rows, counting the number of strides it took to get from one end of my new prison to the other. It was much bigger then the cages I had been in, nearly four times the size of the hospital room I had woken up in. It was still a prison. Storm's words had made that clear. I was not supposed to leave unless someone told me to. I was trapped, once again, but this time in a gilded cage.

I completed my circuit of the building. It was about fifty feet by eighty feet, thirty rows of plants excluding the smaller bed of flowers. The floor was wood, heated from underneath. It was made out of triple layered glass, placed in a metal lattice. The air was warmest in the middle of the room, the temperature dropped about ten degrees next to the walls.

I walked back to the middle of the building and sat down on an empty pot. I flexed my feet against the floor and waited for them to regain feeling. The professor hadn't given me shoes. He didn't want me to run away, or have access to the grounds. Cold feet wouldn't stop me from doing either. I had come all the way from Canada without shoes, a walk in the woods without them wouldn't do any more damage.

A/N

Sorry this took so long, I've had I busy week. Prom is coming up at my school, and I got asked. I had to come up with a good way to let a friend know that I don't want to go with him.

Anyway...As usual please tell me if anything looks wrong, or if any characters aren't up to par. Please review! If I get five reviews, just five, but Friday the Twenty First I will get the new chapter out by Sunday morning. Please review?


	6. Chapter 6

Marie, or Rogue or whatever, found me sitting in the middle of the greenhouse a few hours later. She seemed surprised, standing in the doorway with her hands on her hips and frowning at me for a while before coming all the way in. I didn't bother getting up. If she was offended, she could leave.

"You don't look much like Logan." She said, perching on the edge of one of the plantings.

I grunted and went back to picking at a loose string in the hem of my shirt.

"You act like him though." She continued, her eyes fixed on me with an unusual intensity. Most people only managed to glace up, and look away. I figured it was the teeth, or maybe the claws.

Her heels were banging annoyingly against the side of the planting, I found myself blinking in time with the thumps and forcing myself not to do anything…stupid. She went silent for a few minutes, but continued to be irritating. I did my best to ignore her, trying to name all the plants that I could smell.

"Why does he hate you?" She asked suddenly.

The question made my head jerk up, and I narrowed my eyes. "That's not for you to know." I growled.

The only thing worse then a powerful, mutant teenager was one that didn't know how to keep out of trouble. The kid must have a skewed sense of danger, if she hung around Logan and didn't mind annoying me. She was smiling slightly, feigning a look of indifference while she examined her gloved hands.

"I know who you are." She said looking up, "There's enough of Logan in me to know that, Sabertooth." She paused for effect before continuing, "I won't tell anyone though."

I clamped my teeth together, ripping the annoying thread out of the shirt. "Is that all?" I hissed.

"No. Lunch is ready." She straightened up, walking over to the door and holding it open for me, "I'm here to make sure you don't run away."

"I don't have any god damn shoes, kid. I'm not going anywhere." I slouched into the sun, squinting.

"That wouldn't stop you." She replied, following me like a shadow, "You would leave if you wanted to."

"Yeah." I muttered.

She wove around me, stopping in front so I had to quit walking. "Why are you here?"

I shrugged and started moving again, but she put a hand on my arm.

"You don't know, do you?" She asked, "You don't know why you're here."

I brushed here away, took the steps two at a time and pulled open the door, "Ladies first."

A/N

It's a short one, but hopefully you guys like it. At least it's something, right? Anyway, please review.


	7. Chapter 7

The cafeteria was crowded with mutants, mostly children. Most of them looked almost normal, with a few exceptions. There was a boy near the middle of the room with pale grey skin. He was one of the younger ones, maybe five at the most. I almost felt bad for him. Five was early to have powers manifest. He wasn't the only one of that age though. His entire table was full of small kids, most were distracted by a constellation of purple bubbles that was floating above them. The older kids glanced around when Marie and I entered, craning their necks to see above their companions' heads.

"Get some food and go to the Professor's office." Rogue practically shouted at me, waving as she left to go sit near a group of mutants her age.

I wove my way through the tables, grabbing a tray and heaping it with the first edible item I saw. I didn't know the way to the professor's office, but it wouldn't be hard to find. His scent still lingered in the cafeteria, I could follow it. Jimmy was with him, or at least it smelled like he was.

The scent trail lead out of the lunch room and up a set of stairs, then turned down another hall. I could hear Jimmy and the Professor talking, and raised my hand to the doorknob. It swung open before I touched it, and I found myself looking at the professor.

"Come in Victor. Sit down." He indicated a winged armchair, opposite the one that Logan was sitting in.

I set the tray down on one the desk, I wasn't hungry anyway, and took a seat. "Why am I here?"

The Professor seemed excited, "Logan and I have come to an agreement." He sat in the third chair, and leaned forward. "I believe that your memories may help bring his back."

I waited for him to go on, then realized that he was finished. "How do you plan on doing that?" I glanced at Jimmy, who was slouching in his chair with crossed arms, glaring at me.

"I will transfer your thoughts to his mind." The professor beamed.

I raised an eyebrow. "Have you ever done that before?" I was willing to bet that he hadn't. The plan was stupid anyway, Jimmy would never believe that anything I showed him was the truth.

"No, I have not. However, the process should be quite a bit easier then it sounds." He seemed slightly discouraged by Jimmy and my lack of enthusiasm. "Why don't we give it a try?"

I shrugged, glancing at Jimmy again. He was still scowling at me, but managed a slight nod. "Fine."

"Well then," The professor pressed his fingers together, "Why don't we start at the beginning?"

"What?" I narrowed my eyes. This plan was getting worse by the minute.

He sighed, "The first thing you remember, Victor."

Jimmy snorted, "Good luck with that, Chuck. It'll probably be sometime last week."

"Shut it, whelp." I growled, attempting to sort through my early memories. Repeated head trauma hadn't helped with the chronology.

"Whenever you are ready." Xavier said, ignoring Jimmy and my exchange.

I decided on what I thought was my first memory, and nodded at the Professor. Immediately I felt him in my mind, fist as a wave of cold, then a more pointed attack. The memory began unfolding in front of my eyes, blurring Jimmy's surprised expression.

I was laying on my back, under a pine tree, looking up at the grey sky. I was hiding, but my father could never know that. He would called me a coward again, and beat me if he was drunk. He was always drunk. I had scars on my back to prove it.

"Boy!" He was stumbling through the woods somewhere close by, "Boy!"

I rolled onto my knees, getting ready to run. He was to close though, he would see me if I moved. I took the only other choice, grabbing the armload of firewood I had collected and walking toward him.

"Here, father." I braced myself for the blow, closing my eyes tightly and leaning away from the man.

To my surprise, he draped an arm over my shoulders, "Say hello to Mr. Howlett, boy." He growled, tilting my chin up.

"Hello, sir." I murmured, glancing up at the man in question.

He smiled at me, a knowing smile. He had been friends with my father for years, and even I knew that their old friendship was the only reason the Howlett's hadn't fired us yet.

"_His_ son needs someone to look after him." My father rasped, spewing stinking breath over my face, "I told him you were available."

"Of course, sir." I was watching my feet again, thinking about the possible consequences of this new chore. I had never met the youngest Howlett, but I had seen him around the property. He was small, smaller then I had been at his age, and always seemed to have a doting nurse following him around. I didn't understand why Mr. Howlett would want me to watch him. There were plenty of more qualified people for that job. People who didn't smell like horse shit, and didn't do the gardening.

"The nurse is ill, and my wife and I have plans for this evening." Mr. Howlett explained, "It would be nice for James to have someone close to his age around, and your father assures me that you are a very responsible young man."

My father's hand pushed my chin up again, and I glanced at my masters face quickly before looking down again, "Yes sir."

"I'll expect you at the main house in an hour then, Victor." He started to turn away, but looked back quickly, "Please wear something clean, James has a cold and I don't want him exposed to anything."

"Yes sir." I murmured, and watched him walk away.

The blow to the back of my head was not unexpected. Nor were the words that my father hissed, "Next time Mr. Howlett comes calling for you, I expect you to be around, not hiding in the woods."

He stomped on my back, hard enough for it to pop loudly. "Do you understand, boy?"

I tried to answer, but pain and lack of breath made my reply fall short.

"What was that?" He put more weight on my spine, which began creaking painfully.

I gasped for air, laying as still as possible. He would lose interest soon, called back to the bottles in our house. After a few more seconds of agonizing pressure, he removed his foot, kicking me hard in the ribs.

"Bring that wood back with you. And find a clean shirt." He growled, stamping along the path to our shack.

I laid in the dirt for a while longer, unable to stand. The pain in my ribs and my back slowly faded, I crawled over to the firewood I had gathered and picked it up. All the way home I tripped over sticks, falling several more times. My ears still rang from the force of my father's blow.

He was gone when I got there, headed to town for more liquor, so I clambered onto the counter and examined the damage he had done in the mirror. My face was scratched where it had hit the ground, the right side was already turning purple. My arms were stiff when I pulled my shirt over my head, the back was spotted with blood. I tried to wipe most of the dirt off my skin before I put on my clean shirt, folding the dirt one in the corner where I slept.

I headed towards the main house just as night began to fall, hoping that I was clean enough to please the Howletts. They were standing in the main room when I entered, wiping my shoes on the rug.

"Just in time." Mrs. Howlett said to her husband, then turned to me, "We thought you may have gotten lost on the way here."

"No ma'am." I bowed my head, hoping they wouldn't see the new bruises.

"Come in, Victor. James is in the kitchen eating dinner." Mr. Howlett leaned down to put a hand on my shoulder, "The cook made extra, we thought you might be hungry."

"Stop." I managed to growl through gritted teeth. "That's enough."

Almost immediately I felt Xavier vacate my mind, and the memory stopped. I found myself staring at Jimmy, who was looking blankly at the air several feet in front of my face.

"This isn't right." I growled, trying to shake off the weakness that I felt. "That won't help him."

"Anything may jog James's memories." The professor replied.

Jimmy looked toward us, the usual snarl had disappeared from his lips. "That was your father?"

"He's your too." I snapped, standing up.

"He's an ass." Jimmy blinked hard, "I'm not related to him."

"You can't pick family." I hissed, kicking his foot on my way to the door.

The professor followed me, passed the surprisingly docile Jimmy on his way. "This is what you wanted, Victor." He said as he closed the door.

"It's not what I wanted. This is what you want." I spun around clenching my hands into firsts.

"You want him to trust you." He was unflappably calm, which made me even more irritated.

"How is showing him that going to make him trust me? He doesn't believe a word I say, he doesn't care about what happened. He hates me, Chuck, what don't you get about that?" I slammed a fist into the wall, using that as the alternative to hitting the Professor.

"Calm down, Victor." He raised his hands, "No one here will hurt you. You are safe."

"I'm leaving. This isn't going to work." I hissed, almost wanting Xavier to try to stop me. I was torn between attacking Jimmy and running out of the building.

I spun around and headed towards the stairs, ignoring the professor when he called me back. I was almost running by the time I reached the doors, losing control quickly. I sprinted across the grounds, heading for the trees.

A/N This chapter is actually about 300 words longer then average. I felt bad for that last one, hopefully this makes up for it. Just to let you know, in the memory Victor is around six or seven in the memory, and is starting to develop his abilities (that why his father didn't hurt him to badly). As always, please review and/or tell me if anything is wrong.


	8. Chapter 8

After a few minutes I stopped running. My legs burned with even that small effort, and I tried to slow my breathing. The mansion wasn't in sight anymore, but I hadn't crossed the wall yet. If I left, there would be no coming back. The professor may believe in second chances, but it was unlikely for him to give me a third.

I panted, leaning against a tree and holding my ribs. Apparently I hadn't healed from earlier. It made sense, I couldn't remember the last time I'd eaten anything. At least the sun was out, and the snow was melting. I would have been forced back to the mansion if it was cold—the shirt the professor had given me was no match for winter. However, being outside allowed me to cool off in a different way.

I reexamined the reason for my anger. I had chosen the memory with full knowledge of what was in it. I hadn't thought that it would make any difference, allowing Jimmy to see my weakness. He had known that my father had beaten me, when we had been brothers. Showing him it again should not have made me feel vulnerable.

Maybe my feelings were because the professor had been there. He was not family, not to be trusted. He shouldn't know about my past, or Jimmy's for that matter. It was none of his business. But he was an important part of the plan, not a middle man that could be disposed of, and there didn't seem to be any other way to make Jimmy believe me.

"Damn." I muttered to myself, circling around a tree as I thought.

If Jimmy would believe me, I could just tell him about everything. But trust was much harder to build then it was to destroy, and some of what I had to share was not kind. I had tried to keep him safe, from the world and from myself, but sometimes that wasn't possible. I had done things that I wasn't proud of.

Footsteps pulled me out of my thoughts, and I saw Jimmy stalking toward me.

"You didn't make it very far, old man." He spat, pulling a cigar out of his pocket.

I decided not to respond, folding my arms over my chest instead.

"Hank said you're not doing very well." He glanced at me, then went back to his cigar.

"And?" I smirked, "You came out here to find me and bring me back like a lost puppy."

Jimmy bristled, "I was gonna kill you, but Chuck has a habit of knowing when I do something that's against the rules. So I won't."

"You couldn't kill me. You don't know _how_." I spat, realizing that I had said those words before.

He shrugged, "I'll figure something out eventually."

"You do that." I growled back.

We stood silently for a few minutes, watching each other warily. Jimmy seemed to want to say something, he looked less angry then he had for years.

He mumbled something under his breath, "…actually happened."

"What?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and unfolding my arms.

Jimmy swallowed, shuffling his feet. "All that actually happened?" He looked up, suddenly bearing a striking resemblance to the Jimmy I had known.

"It was a long time ago." I felt the urge to run again, balling my hands into fists and clamping my teeth shut.

For a few moments neither of us said anything, then Jimmy spoke again, "How old are we?"

I almost laughed, and would have if I could have avoided getting stabbed again. "Older then most people." I neatly avoided the question while calculating our ages. We were both born before the civil war.

"You don't remember?" He seemed surprised.

"Around two hundred years, give or take a couple decades." It all blended together after a while, all the years. Very little had changed until Striker had come along. War came with safety, and peace with danger. We'd gotten along well enough, seen eye to eye on most things. One of us would leave for a couple years, then we'd find each other again.

Jimmy's eyes widened for a split second, then his usually look of distrustful anger came back. "I don't believe you.'

"You're the one that asked, Runt. If you can't handle the truth you shouldn't ask questions." I was quickly growing tired of Jimmy's bipolarity. It was easier to deal with him when he was angry, at least I knew what to expect.

I walked past him, just out of arm's reach, heading back toward the mansion. The sun was beginning to go down, I didn't want to stand around in the cold. Jimmy stayed where he was, waiting for me to get a good distance ahead of him before he followed.

The lights were on in the mansion, reflecting off the snow. Most of the kids were gathered in the game room, or studying in the library. I headed to the staff kitchen, taking the least crowded route. Ororo was washing dishes, and glanced over her shoulder when I entered.

"I'll get out of your way." She folded her towel and slipped past Jimmy into the hall.

"Do you need something?" I said, turning around to glare at him.

"Nope." He had disposed of his cigar, but the smell of smoke still lingered on him.

I gritted me teeth, "Why are you still hanging around then?"

"Keeping you out of trouble." There was a threat in those words, which I chose to ignore.

"Go babysit someone else." I muttered, opening the refrigerator.

Jimmy leaned against the far counter, staying between me and the door, "I'd love to, but you'd go eat someone…or whatever." He crossed one ankle over then other, seeming content to irritate me.

I pulled a half empty box of pizza off one of the shelves and kicked the door shut, "I'm not a big fan of eating kids. They're stringy, no muscle."

Jimmy looked shocked, his face flickered between amused and disgusted expressions. "I don't want to know." He final managed.

I grinned, carrying the box with me as I walked back into the hall. Jimmy followed me, an acceptable distance behind. "I was joking." I clarified.

We walked back down the hall, where I attempted to open the door to the greenhouse. It didn't move then I turned the handle, so I smashed into it with my shoulder. Whatever had been blocking it moved out of the way, and I slipped out of the crack.

Immediately I sank up to my knees in snow. "F…" Began to swear, but caught sight of the professor standing in the greenhouse.

Jimmy stumbled into me, thinking that I had moved out of the way. "Move your ass." He growled in my ear.

"Get off." I replied, jamming my elbow into his ribs.

He smacked into the side of the door, growled, and shoved me back. I tripped him smoothly, and leapt out of the snow.

Jimmy was fuming, a vein throbbing in his temple. I smirked at him, pulling a piece of pizza out of the box and eating it in several bites as I watched him wallow through the snow.

"To deep for you, little brother?" I said without thinking, and ducked when he swung a fist at my head.

"That's no way to treat family, now is it?" I was enjoying myself. It was good to push someone's buttons. To see someone else lose control for once. It was a nice reversal of roles.

Jimmy attempted to stab me with his claws, but I knocked his hand out of the way.

"Predictable." I retaliated by tripping him again, "You never paid enough attention to your feet."

He glared up at me, covered in snow. "You're an ass."

"Yep." I walked around to the door of the greenhouse, waiting for Jimmy to catch sight of the professor.

He did when he tackled me through the door, rolling off and brushing snow out of his hair. "Hey, Chuck."

"Good evening, Logan." The professor didn't look amused by our fighting, but didn't look angry either. He looked resigned instead. "And you as well, Victor."

A/N I feel like this chapter is better then some of the ones I've written, but please give me your reactions. Also, I don't know if I got Victor and Logan's ages right, so please tell me if I'm wrong.

Please review, as always.


	9. Chapter 9

I dreamed, for the first time since Jimmy had turned his back on me and walked away, about the wars. We were running, side-by-side, as of yet untried soldiers. Musket balls hissed past our ears, embedding themselves in the skin of our fellow soldiers and the ground around us. The smell of fear was so thick I could almost taste it. My heart smashed against my ribs like a trapped animal, mirrored in the pulse at Jimmy's neck. The blood was sickening, spattering from the head of the man next to me onto my arm.

I twisted away, breathing hard as the boy toppled over. "Shit." I attempted to reload my gun with shaking hands, keeping my head below a convenient log.

A piercing whistle ripped through the air, and suddenly I was flying backward. I heard a tree splinter, felt something hit me hard in the back. I managed to roll out most of the impact, feeling my spine snap back into place. Clods of dirt rained down on me, falling into the smoking crater when I had just been. The screams of the wounded came crashing through the ringing in my ears as my eardrums healed.

I scanned the ground for James, kicking aside a mutilated body, or what was left of it. The screams, the blood, the confusion of the battlefield was multiplied by the crazy spinning and pain that I felt.

"Jimmy!" I managed to shout, pushing myself off a shattered tree.

Another whistle. This time I dropped to the ground, telling myself that it wasn't fear that had made my knees give out, and covered my head with my hands. More dirt fell on me, more gore spattered my face.

"Jimmy!" I gasped out again, spitting out more blood then words, "James!" I tried again, searching for an answer.

Someone groaned nearby, sounding almost familiar. I turned, to quickly, as ended up crawling toward the prone form. It wasn't him. The bloody hair was to light, the frame to slender. Then I heard the screaming. Screams for a long dead mother, a father figure who was six feet under.

I grabbed his wrists, pulling them away from the hole in his middle, and watched in fascination as his insides knit back together. His shouts turned to frantic gasps, his hands wrapping around my arm in a crushing grip.

"It hurts." He panted, eyes to wide and unfocused.

I nodded, searching for the right words. None came to mind. Every one of his gasps sent pain spiking though my chest. The wet sound as he attempted to breathe, the gurgling in his lungs. His pitiful, frantic sounds.

I pressed a hand against his throat, forcing his eyes up to mine. First there was fear, then acceptance, and then nothing. I knelt next to him, watching as the cuts healed and the bruises faded.

The rattle of machine guns was the only sound in our ears. As soon as they had dropped the hatch the massacre had begun. We knew what to do. We ran, sloshing through pink stained waves and ignoring the sting of bullets. By the time we reached the beach we had to leap over bodies, laying thick enough to cover the sand. The first wave hadn't had good luck. Those that survived were sheltered behind the meager cover of the tank barriers, cradling wounded comrades.

Jimmy and I ignored their shouts for help, targeting the main threat. The gunner in the bunker. An easy leap for me, not so much for Jimmy. He crouched at the base of the wall, providing cover fire.

They were surprised when I wrenched the gun out of their hands. I pulled the trigger, spinning it on its tripod. They slumped over like dead fish, staining the floor red. I swung back out the window, landing in the sand next to Jimmy—who was nursing a bullet-riddled arm. I swore, looking around for the bastards who did it.

"I got them, Victor. They're dead." He pulled me down next to him, tossing sand on my coat to hid the worst of the holes as our fellow soldiers advanced. Always thinking ahead, always hiding what we were.

My eyes opened to the bright glare of sunlight, and I sat up quickly. There was someone else in the greenhouse, moving around at the other end.

"Did you sleep well?" Ororo was carefully placing a small plant into a bigger pot.

I opened my mouth to tell her that it was none of her business, but hesitated. Instead I grunted, and slouched toward the door.

"I'm supposed to escort you to the professor." She said, brushing the dirt off her hands.

"I don't need a babysitter." I hissed, shoving my feet into the shoes and started out the door.

I could feel Ororo's smile even as I turned away, "You haven't done much to prove that."

"I haven't been given much of a chance." I spat back, whipping around to face her.

Fear flickered over her face for an instant, and then she raised her hands in a placating gesture. "I meant no offence. I was just making an observation."

I loosened my hands for their fists, and felt blood run down my fingers. I glanced at them to confirm that my claws were back. My control was slipping, not that I had much on the best of days. I backed away a few steps, hoping that she would calm down if there was more space between us. The only sign of fear she had given was that look, there was no scent of it, and she looked relaxed when I flicked my eyes back to her.

"Would you like to clean yourself up before you go to see him?" She asked, clasping her hands together lightly.

I thought about saying no, but the benefit of spiting the professor lost its appeal when I realized how dirty I was. "Fine." I growled, stepping aside so she could lead me out of the greenhouse. The snow was melting quickly, limp brown grass was starting to peak through the slush. Winter seemed to have ended overnight.

"Did you do this?" I asked, gesturing at the yard.

She looked over her shoulder at me, "Nature can do wonderful things without my influence. It's the middle of March, winter should have ended weeks ago." She looked at my hands, her gaze fixing on my overly long nails, "Maybe you should keep those in your pockets."

My jaw clenched, but I carefully slipped my hands into the pockets of my pants, nails hidden inside loose fists to keep them from cutting the cloth. I shouldered open the door, allowing Ororo to enter before I let it close. A smile flickered across her lips, lighting up her eyes quickly. All traces of fear were gone now, and I wasn't sure if I liked it. People were less likely to trust people they were afraid of, but it fear gave me an edge. I didn't want to lose it, not yet. It was one of the few advantages I had over the x-men. If they lost their fear, I lost most of my power.

We left the kitchen and skirted around the outside of the dining area. I snatched a couple of pieces of bacon and some toast as we passes a serving plate, making sure my sleeves covered my hands. Most of the students had glanced up when we entered, but they had gone back to their conversations, or rather gossip, quickly. Rogue raised her eyebrows and grinned at me when I passed. I narrowed my eyes slightly, wondering what Jimmy would do if I wiped that smile off her face. It was almost worth it just to get under his skin, but the last time I had messed with one of his lady friends had ended in a death threat and years of failed attempts on my life. I didn't really want to go back out on my own again.

The noise of the kids eating was cut off as soon as the door closed behind us, and we walked down the hall to the professor's office in silence. I could smell Jimmy, no doubt the professor was going to give us another talking to about brotherly love or some other bull shit. Love had never been my thing. Not even towards James.

Charles greeted Ororo and me with a smile, and indicated a pair of empty chairs. Jimmy and the blue gorilla were sitting on the other side of the low table. Jimmy's arms were crossed and he was tapping his foot with an annoying regularity. The gorilla seemed faintly amused by something, like he and the professor were sharing a private joke. I glared at him until the amusement was replaced by a guarded apprehension.

"I'm glad you decided to join us, Victor." The professor said amiably.

I focused my glare on him, "I don't like being fetched, _sir_." I growled the last word.

"I have never fetched you. You are free to accept my invitations or not. But I think you will enjoy what Hank and I have planned for you." He meshed his fingers together and leaned over his desk.

I was not excited about whatever experiment they had planned. The last time Hank had been involved in Jimmy and my sessions had ended with both of us convulsing on the floor.

"Yeah?" I chanced a look at James, how didn't look unduly grumpy. "What exactly do you have planned?"

The gorilla cleared his throat, "Charles and I have decided that it would be best for the pair of you to go through a trust building exercise." I grimaced, thinking about trust falls and Boy Scout camps. Hank ignored me; "We also think that it would be good for the students who are staying here over spring break to get off the grounds for a while." He paused, looking gleeful. "Charles and I have planned a trip for some of the older students to go with the two of you to Canada. We were hoping that you could show them where you grew up, and some of the more popular attractions."

"No." I growled, "I'm not going on a road trip with a bunch of screaming kids."

"I'm not to thrilled about this either, bub." Jimmy hissed, "It sounds like a bad idea."

"Familiar sights may help you regain your memories." The professor explained, "And the tow of you would have help. Ororo would like to go, and Marie isn't a child anymore."

I glanced at Jimmy again, catching his eye, and was surprised to see a look of acceptance there. His supposed reluctance to go was just as fake as mine, but neither of us was eager to make the first move.

"Fine." I stood up, and gave Jimmy's head a shove as I walked past, "Remember to bring clean underwear, little brother."

A/N I am really sorry about how long it's been, hopefully I can update more regularly in the future. Its been a really busy couple of months for me. Hopefully this chapter makes up for the wait, but I can't say that I'm very pleased with it. I re-wrote it a few to many times to like it very much. Anyway, please review if you have a minute.


	10. Chapter 10

"You have to be patient with them." She was looking at me reproachfully.

I slouched further, drawling back. "They should know how to do this."

"No one has ever taught them how, Victor. Most of these children are from the city, they haven't been camping before."

"I'm not a teacher." I crossed my arms, listening to the brats squalling off a ways in the trees. "If they're as smart as Chuck thinks they are, they can figure it out on their own." Somehow James had escaped Ororo's wrath. He leaned against a tree across the clearing, head turned toward the noise. It had been as much his idea as mine, but the weather witch was glaring at me.

"Help them." She demanded, pointing into the trees, "Now."

I felt my control slip, and bared my teeth. "Do it yourself."

Jimmy's feet crunched over the thin rime of snow on the ground, "Watch it, bub." He snarled, blades extending from his hands with a familiar rasp.

I took a deep breath and let my fingers fall open onto my knees, and then looked up at my brother. The muscles of his jaw were ridged, and the tendons in his hands stood out like ropes. I straightened up and walked past him calmly in the opposite direction of the kids. He took a few steps after me and stopped.

The last few days had grown more and more unsettling. Jimmy and I had been forced into the same spaces over and over, had dealt with carsickness and hormonal teenagers. Ororo and Marie had kept their wits about them, but it hadn't taken long for my uneasy peace with James to come to an end. This rhythm was more familiar though, even if it was more violent. It was become clear that eventually we would have to sort out the pecking order. I had always been able to beat Jimmy before Striker got him, now I wasn't so sure.

I waited until the distant yelling stopped before I returned to the campsite. Ororo gave me a dirty look, and I raised my hands in a gesture of peace. The kids were eating, tents half set up. Most of them were lopsided, missing poles, or twisted.

"Looks like snow." Jimmy said, chewing absently on a cigar. His tone was almost civil. His eyes were still guarded; the tension was still in his shoulders. I felt almost hopeful.

The sky had clouded over, and the temperature was dropping quickly. We were headed toward a certain old manor house in the woods, a fair distance from the boarder.

I prowled toward the tents, and heard Jimmy follow. "Looks like they need some help."

He nodded, tugging at one of the poles. We stayed as far away as possible, keeping a few tents between us. I remembered a time when we had shared a heartbeat, when we had run with shoulders touching, when we hadn't looked at each other like a pair of angry wolves. It almost hurt to remember, but not quite. I slipped my hands into the pockets of my coat, and looked away.

These trees were familiar. Tall pines with a thick bed of needles and minimal underbrush. Good hunting grounds, if I remembered correctly. James had caught his first prey here, somewhere among these trees, sometime in that first summer. His first kiss had been stolen a few miles back, from a butcher's daughter. I had pretended not to notice his tears when we moved on, just given his shoulder a gentle push to get him moving. We'd spent a hard winter farther north, years later, and ended up looking like walking skeletons.

I looked like that now. Some of the old muscle had come back, enough that I looked less like a stick, but my face was still gaunt, the shadow of those nights in the cage stills haunted me.

I'd heard Hank and the professor talking on night, in worried voices.

"He looks different." Hank had said.

The professor had paused before answering, "He's beaten."

"Broken?"

There had been something that was almost a laugh then, "No. Not broken. Something like that would not break him." There had been another pause, "You can see it though. He doesn't care to grow strong again. He doesn't leave either."

"More lost then beaten, it would seem." Hank seemed almost said, "Like one of your students."

"If he was lost, then he could be found again. Victor is not lost, he knows were he is, and what he wants. But he isn't in the game anymore. You could say that he has quit fighting."

I'd left after that, with a sense that I was meant to hear more. The professor had know that I had been listening, there were no secretes from him. I didn't believe what he had said though.

The kids came swarming over after they had consumed their gruel, jabbering away at us and forcing us closer together. We demonstrated the proper way to set up the tents, and checked each one after they were finished. By the time I made my way back to the fire, night had fallen. Marie smiled knowingly at Jimmy and I, I rolled my eyes at her.

"Have fun?" She asked, folding her arms behind her head.

"Yeah, it was great." Jimmy muttered, lighting another cigar.

"you do know those things cause cancer, right?" She tried to swipe it from him, but he twitched out of the way.

"Does it look like I care?" He raised an eyebrow at her in an expression similar to the one he had always given me.

"_That thing stinks, damn Japs'll smell it."_

"_Then we'll kill 'em." _

I picked up my backpack and moved away from the fire, stringing the hammock halfway up a couple of trees. It rocked slightly in the wind, waterproof cloth flapping noisily. I zipped it around my sleeping bag and closed my eyes and waited.

His shouts would have woken the kids, the sound of nylon ripping would make them think it was a bear or something. I dragged myself out of the hammock, not pausing for my eyes to adjust, and crept toward his tent. Jimmy was hauling himself out of the destroyed cloth when I got there, his expression a mixture of fear and anger and embarrassment.

I didn't wait for him to ask for help, or try to threaten me away, I simply reacted. One of his arms was free, blades still protruding from his hand, so I grabbed that and pulled. More material ripped as I dragged him, but he didn't try to pull away. Once he was free I surveyed the damage. The tent was shredded, but everything inside seemed fine. It would be wet by morning though, snow was already falling.

"You okay?" I asked without turning, giving him time to think about what had just happened. It was the first time that physical contact between us hadn't been violent. I waited for him to attack, bracing myself.

"Fine." He sounded shaken rather then angry.

I nodded, and started toward my hammock again just as Storm arrived, dragging the ruined tent with me. Once I was out of sight I ripped the tent apart, slicing the useful cloth into usable pieces and covering the rest of Jimmy's things. Most of it would dry in the vans. The only thing that was ruined was a book, which could be replaced. I flicked through the wet pages on a whim, and let the photograph fall between my fingers. Half a photograph. A red haired woman, with an arm around her shoulders. Phoenix. I began to crumple it up in my fist, then slipped it under the makeshift tarp.

I wandered for the rest of the night, running barefoot through the trees. My feet carried me to familiar places, made surreal by the falling snow and the darkness. It felt like home, but none of the sights made me happy.

I stopped at the thought; trying to remember the last time I had felt happiness. The real thing, not the sense of fulfillment that I sometimes felt after a kill, or after getting my revenge. I couldn't remember.

"Don't be stupid." I muttered to myself, I must be getting old or sentimental or something. I headed back to the camp, running hard, and arrived at dawn.

Marie was holding a cup of coffee, and pointed to the pot when I looked at it. Jimmy was nowhere to be seen, neither was Storm or any of the kids.

"Rough night?" Marie asked, tapping her gloved fingers on the side of the mug.

I snorted, and wondered if burned hands were better then cold ones. The coffee was almost boiling, and the pot was big enough to fit one hand at a time. I filled my mug instead, and settled for wrapping my hands around it.

"None of your business." I muttered.

I was surprised when she put her hand under my chin, forcing me to look at her. "It hurts to listen, and to know you can't stop them."

I slapped her hand away, opening cuts with my nails. "Don't tell me what to think."

She had shied backward, jerking her arm across her chest, but she didn't seem surprised. "Why are you here?" She almost shouted, shoving me with her other arm.

"Why do you care?" I growled back, settling into a more balanced stance. My heart slowed and my mouth ached briefly before my teeth lengthened.

For the first time, I saw a flicker of fear on her face. Then she was stripping off her gloves, "I thought you wanted to help him!" She screamed, "I thought you loved him!"

I tried for words, but ended up growling instead. She lunged at the same time I did, reaching for bare skin. I skidded to the side, feeling tendons pop in my ankles as they strained, and whipped one of her feet out from under her. She yelped in pain, trying to regain her footing, and I moved in for the kill.

It was so easy, her head was tilted back to expose her throat. Her pulse beat rapidly under her skin, showing me the place. I smelled fear and pine needles and spilled coffee and James.

I smashed into a tree hard enough to split the skin on my back.

"What the hell are you doing?" He roared, reaching for me again.

I rolled away, hopping back to my feet and panting for breath. I scrambled for control, trying to shove the animal away.

I chanted quickly in my head, one word over and over again, "No, no, no, no…" and backed away until my back pressed up against another tree.

"Stay. Away. From. Her." He hissed, eyes narrow. But he didn't come closer, he didn't fight. Something had changed.

I slid down the tree and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, gasping. It couldn't happen again. Never again. I wanted to run so badly that my legs shook.

"Are you alright?" He was talking to Rogue, kneeling next to her.

"Fine." She lied, and used his hand to pull herself up.

I leaned my head back against the bark and waited for the inevitable. Two sets of feet walked to the van. The back door opened. A plastic lid was peeled off an equally plastic box with a cracking noise and a whiff of antiseptic. Several plastic packages crinkled.

"Can I get some help?" Asked a faintly accented voice. Southern, but not strong enough to be twangy.

Then, "Not you, him."

A set of footsteps approaching, smooth but heavy. Breaking pine needles.

A pause, "Are you coming?" Angry, but less so then before. It was just anger, not hate.

I opened my eyes again, and caught a glimpse of them in his. Grey, like my fathers, but without the red veins. I stood, and felt him follow me. Half a step behind, familiar and different at the same time. His feet stamped out a stiff song on the snow and pine needles.

Marie's sleeve was rolled up, the skin below it was pale and streaked with blood. Otherwise she seemed unhurt.

"Take that," She pointed to a gauze pad, "and put it here." She pointed to the cuts, four lines of dark red.

I did as I was told, and when my fingertips brushed her arm I felt nothing. She would not lose control, not even now.

"Bandage it." She commanded. And I did, then took a few steps back.

The three of us stood in the snow and the silence and watched each other. Marie slipped her sleeve back down her arm.

"You owe me a new coat."

I nodded, poised on my toes. When Jimmy moved I shifted away. He glared at me, then walked the rest of the distance to the stove and filled a mug. The glare had been a warning. I was running out of lives.

A/N Once again, this chapter is all over the place. Italics are memories, if I didn't manage to make it clear. Please review. Thanks for staying with me guys!


	11. Chapter 11

The silence that seemed to follow me was even more annoying then the senseless chatter. Ever since I had fought with Rogue the other kids had been wary, watching me with eyes that were either large with fear or squinty with anger. I was used to that part. Most people who I dealt with seemed to have one expression or the other. The cut short conversations were what bothered me, the way the kids would fall silent and _watch_.

Jimmy was no better. I thought he would be angry with me for hurting his Marie, and he was. But it wasn't his usual blustery, violent, overly aggressive anger. This was something else. It was cold silence, the kind that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. He watched as well, his face as blank as the snow that continued to fall.

Marie was the only one who made any attempt to talk to the pair of us. She was determined to show that she wasn't afraid of me. Every action since she had made me bandage her arm was done with a forced bravado that was almost as bad as silence.

Ororo was quiet, but not in an openly hostile way. She had made it clear that she didn't want to be a part of Jimmy and my fighting. She busied herself with the kids, or watched the snowflakes fall or walked down the road—which had been relatively quiet before the snow started, and was now empty.

I had spent the last two days walking around the camp in ever larger spirals. It helped keep the trapped feeling at bay, but I still itched to run for it. I wanted to leave the mess of people, of feelings, behind. Instead I walked, wearing the thin covering of snow away with my pacing.

I paused at a small pond, leaning over the water to look for fish—or frogs or any other living thing—and caught a glimpse of my face. Dark shadows pooled under my eyes and highlighted my still gaunt cheeks. My hair, longer then it had been, was disheveled, and my expression was…

Lost? I looked lost.

I dunked my head into the water, and jerked back up with a gasp. It was cold. But the ripples destroyed my image, and the liquid tamed my unruly hair.

"What are you doing?"

I twisted around at the sound of the voice, hands spring up reflexively. It was one of the kids. He looked ragged. His coat—paid for by the professor—hung slightly to big on his shoulders and flapped slightly in the wind. The cuffs of his jeans were worn to shreds. His hair fell into his eyes in a way that could only be described as ratty.

"Brooding." I growled, and wiped the water out of my eyes, "Shouldn't you be back at camp?"

"Yeah." He jammed his hand into his pockets, and kicked at a small stone. It rolled a few inches, and then turned slowly to mud.

I started off on another spiral, waiting for the kid to leave. Instead he followed, stepping carefully in my tracks.

"Why is Mr. Logan always mad at you?" He asked after about half a mile.

I hesitated, thinking about answering for a moment. "Fuck off, runt." I finally spat.

To my surprise, the kid kept following. I turned, sighing, and took a step toward him. "I told you to get, kid…"

The rattle of bullets being fire froze the words in my throat, and I leapt at the kid. We tumbled down a hill, landing in a small drift. The kid tried to kick me off, so I slammed his feet into the ground.

"Let go, you ass hole!" He hissed.

"Shut up." I glared him into silence, and then turned my head to listen.

The men, dressed in mottled white camouflage, were frighteningly familiar. They were creeping down the hill, searching for us. All of them were human, judging by their scent. A scrawny bush and the pile of snow were hiding us, but that cover wasn't going to last.

I leaned close to the boy's ear. "When I say, run like hell."

He nodded, eyes huge with fear. Then we waited. The men grew closer and closer. The first few passed the bush, almost within leaping distance.

"Run." I whispered, and the boy ran.

I leapt up with him, and staggered back when the first rounds hit me. A quick glance over my shoulder assured me that the boy was still moving. I regained my balance, and relaxed my control.

Immediately the pain blossoming in my chest faded. I relaxed, allowing myself to almost drift forward. The men were scrambling stupidly toward me, brandishing their useless guns. I moved then, with a smile cracking my lips. The first fell in a spray of blood—crimson waves pulsing out of his shredded neck in time with his heartbeat.

The second had time to scream when I reached into his chest and grabbed his heart. He was still gurgling when the next went down, head twisted around to face backward.

The others were forming up, trying to find cover in the sparse underbrush. A few well placed shots sent me to the ground, spitting blood. The world swam, flickering and twisting as the animal tried to force its way into complete control.

I stumbled back to my feet, one hand trying reflexively to stop the blood that was oozing out of my chest. It was hard to breathe. I roared and leapt at the nearest prey, snatching the gun out of its hands and ripping a seam from neck to navel. It fell, gasping for its mother. The next was stupid. It jammed a knife between my ribs when I jerked its gun away. My heart stuttered, and my knees buckled. The prey was not so lucky, and fell to the ground in pieces.

I licked its blood from my lips, and turned to face the few remaining annoyances. There was a sudden crackle of lightning, and one of them fell to the ground—half melted and jerking. The next two crumpled at the same time, one with a trio of silver blades sticking through its chest, and the other with his veins bulging and turning black.

"Victor." I hadn't realized that I had fallen, but I was looking up at Jimmy. His mouth wasn't moving though, and his voice hadn't been that high pitched for years.

"You're safe now." She was reaching out to touch me, fingers brushing against my crimson hands.

I jerked into something hard and cold, and opened my eyes to the sound of Marie talking, "Damn. I thought you were just kidding about him having multiple personalities. That was…damn."

She was straightening up, leaning against Jimmy and pulling on a pair of gloves.

"You okay, kid?" Jimmy grabbed her upper arms, holding her close.

She nodded, brushing her bleached bangs away from her face. "Fine."

I tried to sit up, but flopped back onto the snow gasping. "Fuck." I gritted my teeth and pulled the knife from between my ribs. The pain slowly faded, along with the strange sensation of massive internal bleeding.

"Looks like you had that handled." Jimmy reached down and pulled me to my feet.

When I began to nod my thanks I caught sight of his expression. Eyes narrowed, teeth locked tight. I pulled my hand out of his grip, and limped away.

"Why'd you have to stick your nose in then?" I snapped, setting my shoulders.

"I didn't want you running into camp and killing everyone." He growled back, and I heard his knuckles crack.

"Don't bother next time, _little brother_, you're the only one I want to kill." I leered at him.

"Logan, don't." He had lunged forward, and Rogue had caught him. She was wild eyed, breathing quickly. "He doesn't mean it. He's trying to save face." She pulled him away. "Please don't."

Jimmy looked suspicious, "He's an animal."

"I know what he's feeling. He was protecting Jack. He doesn't know any other way. It's all he has, Logan. He only knows how to be an animal."

I felt my shoulders slump, and let my hands fall away from the healing wounds in my chest. I hated her for telling him, I itched to end her pathetic excuse of a life. It would be so easy to turn and reach out and snap her neck. Like I had done to the man.

"No." Jimmy crossed his arms and glared at me, "He chooses to be like that."

"Fine." Marie stomped away from him, to stand nest to Ororo, "Don't believe me then, you big stupid mongrel." She caught my eye, and her smile was almost infectous. Only almost. I turned and headed back toward the camp, rubbing a handful of snow between my palms.

A/N Next chapter should actually go somewhere, this one felt a little too much like a blood bath. Anyway, thanks for reading and please review.


	12. Chapter 12

I'd forgotten how much kids complained. In the three days since the ambush, I had hear more _are we there yet_s then I had in the past fifty years. The amount of noise they made had forced Jimmy and I ahead of the group. We walked a good fifteen feet apart, shoulders hunched against the cold. The farther north we went the more snowy it got. My jeans were soaked up to the knee, and Jimmy spent most of his time shivering.

We were getting close though. I kept glancing at Logan to see if he recognized the landmarks of his childhood. The ground held more interest then the scenery for him, it seemed, and I wasn't about to start talking to him. The silence between us felt normal now. It was better then anger, but just as cold as the spring around us. It felt like winter, in more ways then one.

"Shit." I spun around just in time to see Jimmy trip over something hidden under the snow. His hands flew under him, and he was on his feet in seconds.

I took a breath in preparation to ask if he was alright, then thought better of it. _Coward_. I thought to myself, and grinned.

"What's so funny, bub?" Jimmy snapped, brushing snow off his pants.

I shook my head a kept walking, but he caught my shoulder.

"I asked you a question." He glowered up at me.

I brushed his hand away, "None of your business."

The next moment I was lying on my side in a patch of red snow, blinking away spots. My head throbbed, and my hair was sticky with blood.

"You need to control yourself Logan." Ororo was talking somewhere close by.

"It was his fault." Jimmy snapped, "He laughed at me."

Ororo sighed, "Listen to yourself. You sound like a child."

I heard the tendons in Jimmy's hands stretch when he clenched his fists, but he couldn't seem to find the words to reply. I decided to sit up, and rubbed some snow over the already healed cuts on my head.

"That was fun." I muttered, examining the bloodstains on my sweatshirt. The grey cloth was streaked liberally with red-brown streams. I shrugged it off and stood. The air was cool against my bare arms, piercing the thin cloth of my t-shirt. I looped the stained clothing through a strap on my backpack and stood, slightly off balance.

The kids were somewhere close, I could smell them but couldn't see them.

"Are you alright Victor?" Ororo asked.

"Fine." I attempted to brush the clumps of blood out of my hair with one hand, keeping the other on a tree for balance.

"The children were worried. Marie couldn't find a pulse." She kept herself between a glowering Jimmy and me, shifting when he did.

"I'm fine." I bent down to pick up my backpack and almost fell, my vision tunneling.

Ororo grabbed my shoulders and kept me on my feet. "You don't look fine." She looped one of my arms around her neck.

I tried to pull away, but the blood snow was slippery and I still felt shaky. "Let go."

She did, put turned immediately to face me, her expression livid. "I don't know what is going on between you and Logan, but one of you is going to end up dead if it keeps up form much longer." Her eyes began to glow, turning slowly white, "You both act like children, you won't accept help. You fight all the time." She shoved me back into the tree, "The students are terrified all the time. You should be helping them, not having this stupid testosterone fueled battle. Just apologize and get over yourselves."

Then she was calm again, looping my arm over her shoulders with a warning look. I glanced, wide-eyed, at Jimmy. He stared at Storm with the same expression. I had to look away when Ororo started off through the trees, watching my feet so I didn't fall. The forest rotated slowly around me, and I realized just how much blood I had lost. I was almost glad for Storm's shoulders to lean on.

Jimmy followed us meekly, hands shoved into his pockets. His sweatshirt was also stained with blood, but he kept it on. Maybe he was planning on asking Marie for his coat back, but I doubted it. He treated the kid like she was one of his own.

The students all watched as Storm dragged me into the campsite, some of them even smiled at the sight. I managed a grimace, locking my teeth to keep from throwing up. When Ororo let go, I slumped onto the snow and rested my head against my knees.

I looked up when someone swallowed nervously. Jimmy was watching me, looking guilty.

He swallowed again, looking away and shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "Sorry." He mumbled as quickly as possible.

I shrugged, "Yeah." I meant to continue with the apology, but the words stuck in my throat.

Jimmy scuffed his feet, glancing around. Finally he asked, "How much longer?"

"A couple miles. If the kids can keep going we should get there tonight." The sun was already going down, and the temperature was dropping with it. It wouldn't be a very comfortable walk, but it wasn't far.

Jimmy's eyes narrowed, but not with anger, some softer emotion stirred in them, "Lets go then."

I pulled myself up, testing my balance before letting go of the tree. Then we walked toward the cluster of students together, feet crunching over late season snow.

"Pack up, we're leaving." Logan growled, hefting his own pack onto his shoulders.

The kids grumbled, but fell in line behind us anyway. Ororo and Rogue pulled tail, watching for danger in the back, even though there were only a handful of kids—eleven to be exact. I led the way through the trees, half a dozen feet in front of Jimmy, who made much more noise. He didn't seem to expect sticks to crack under his weight, even years after his bones had been coated with metal.

"Are we there yet?" One of the younger kids called up the line, a blond girl.

Logan opened his mouth to tell her to shut up, but I shook my head and pointed through the trees. In the fading light, the silhouette of the manor house was barely visible. The line fell silent behind me, and then the kids broke into a run. I glanced at Jimmy, a smile tugging at my lips.

"Race you." There was something childish in the way he said it, but it was still a challenge.

I whipped around and sprinted past the stumbling kids, over the once manicured lawn. Jimmy dashed after me, panting. It was a close race, I had to shoulder my brother out of the way to open the door, but I won. Jimmy glowered, arms folded, until Storm gave him a look that would have shut even Wilson's loose mouth.

"Take your shoes off." I snapped, watching as the kids stamped in with muddy boots.

Several of the older ones rolled their eyes, until they caught sight of the interior of the house. I'd ripped out the insides, replaced the rustic furniture with cutting edge appliances. The only original pieces that remained was the fireplace and the wood floors. The back wall had been modified as well, and in daylight a massive picture window looked out on the forest.

"This is sweet." One of the boys muttered, elbowing his friend, "It's ever cooler then the institute."

Rogue was more practical, "How do you pay for this?" She asked, staring around.

"Investments," I responded, and then glanced toward Storm, "And, ah, private contracts."

Marie raised an eyebrow, but accepted my explanation. "I want a real bed." She said commandingly.

"Fine. Go get one then." I gestured toward the stairs, and glanced around for Logan.

A/N I'm not dead, even though this took forever. Sorry about that. Reviews are welcome, if you have the time!


	13. Chapter 13

I found Logan staring at a wall. It was one of the places I hadn't remodeled or covered up. The antique wood was a few shades darker then it had been when we had left all those years ago, but the gouges in it were the same. A matched set. Three rough cuts in each.

"I did this." He rested his knuckles against the wood, measuring the distance, and glanced over his shoulder at me.

I nodded, "You were shorter then." I immediately wished I had said something less obvious, but Jimmy's smile stopped me.

"I'd like to hear that story someday." He was facing me now, the abrupt—almost angry—edge that so often cut his words short was gone.

"Its better not to remember some things." I answered, keeping my tone carefully neutral. I was not going to mess up this time. Not even if it killed me.

Logan raised an eyebrow, "Was it really that bad?"

"No. Not this part. But our story would make a pretty good horror film." I didn't say that I had spent the last fifteen years trying to forget, allowing the animal part of myself to take over so I wouldn't have to feel. So I wouldn't have to see his face when he left, when I betrayed him. When he thought I killed her.

He shrugged, "I still want to know."

"We were monsters." I warned him, "For a long time, both of us." _Then you changed, and I broke._

"I want to know." The edge was creeping back into his voice, but it was defiant instead of angry, "I need to know who I am, and you're the only one who knows."

He seemed resigned. There was no love between us. Hate, yes, and rage. Pain as well, but not love. Not for a long time.

"I'll tell you then. About everything. But not now." The kids were starting to mess with things, sensing that their supervisors were preoccupied.

Logan seemed to accept that, shooting me a last mistrustful glace before muttering something about food and stalking away. I snapped a couple of clipped orders at the most unruly of the kids and trudged back into the yard.

The trees were clear of snow, dark smudges against the stars. The smell was familiar, nostalgic. No other place in the world smelled the same. But it wasn't home. The manor house had never been my home, not even now. I jogged farther into the woods, and put my shoulder into the thick, rough hewn door of the little shack. Cabin was to grand a word for the building. The single room was dusty, the blankets on the bed nothing more then moth eaten rags. It still stank of booze and blood and pain. The belt, hanging in a place of honor by the hearth, had eroded down to a metal buckle.

I slid down the wall and rested my wrists on my knees. This ruin was the only home I could remember. I had never felt safe here, but I had always come back. Time seemed to hold still, like nothing had change since I had walked out the door all those years ago. My reflection in the dirty, warped mirror was a boy's face.

I listened to the creaks and pops as the warmth left the logs, enjoying the silence. The shack was uncomfortable. The walls to close and the ceiling to low for comfort, but it brought me back the childhood that I hadn't really experienced. Over the years I had forgotten the worst, holding grimly onto the best parts of my young life. I remembered the whippings, but the pain had faded. It seemed acceptable now, like walking through a thorn bush and getting scratched. I remembered the times that I had escaped to the manor house in more detail. Cleaning out the stables, watching jimmy when his parents left. I remembered the knowing feeling, almost godlike, from being the eldest.

"Victor!" A familiar voice was calling, feet smashing the plants on the manicured lawn.

I slipped out of the still open door, kicking it shut with a scream of hinges. "Relax." I grinned at Jimmy, "I'm right here."

He spun around, eyes widening for a moment. "Rogue was looking for you." He rushed the words, and turned back to the lights of the house.

"Scared of the dark?" I laughed, following. And suddenly we were children again.

_ "No!" James was rubbing his arms, head jerking form side to side at every noise. "I'm just cold." _

_ "Liar." I poked him, "You're scared." _

_ His eyes shined wetly, and I realized that I may have gone to far. I looped an arm over his shoulders, "Just listen, James, it's the same as daytime. You just can't see." _

_ The younger boy relaxed, leaning against me. "What if something eats us?" _

_ "Nothing will eat you." I laughed again, "What kind of animal would eat you? You're to small." _

_ "What about you?" He gazed up at the stars, letting his arms fall to his sides. _

_ I ruffled his hair, "I'm not afraid of them. I could kill them if they tried to get me." _

"What's there to be afraid of?"

I raised my head when Logan spoke, grinning, "Nothing."

He seemed surprised, but shrugged and moved back into the patchwork of lights from the windows. The manor was quiet, Ororo and Marie were the only people left in the main room.

"Found him." Logan announced, toeing off his shoes and kicking them into the pile by the door.

Marie grinned, "Running away from home already?"

"No." I moved to the bottom of the staircase, and the little group followed me. "There should be a couple of spare rooms left." I change the subject, indicating the door when we passed.

"Victor." Logan's voice stopped me, my hand resting on the knob to my room.

"What?" I raised my eyebrows.

A/N Oh no! A cliffhanger. I'll post the next chapter on Monday next week, you'll have to wait until then to find out what happens! Let me know how I'm doing.


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N An update! Imagine that. If anyone is left, thanks for sticking around. I promise that I'm going to finish this story. As always, reviews are welcome! Thanks for reading!**

Logan shook his head, "You know what, never mind." His shoulders slumped slightly and his eyes held the all to familiar look of betrayal. "You're just gonna keep hold our secrets over my head, aren't you."

I wanted to respond, but no flippant reply came to mind. I stepped out of the doorway instead, hoping he would see the request in my eyes. Logan raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms.

"I didn't know you swung that way." His tone was scathing, just a little to sharp. He was on the defensive.

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. "You want to know the story. I'm going to tell you."

He took a hesitant step forward, hesitating ever so slightly on the threshold. I gave him time, plenty of time, to claim a space in the room before I followed him. The door eased shut, a hair's breath away from latching. I didn't push it shut. This way there was an escape for him. And for me, if it came to that. Logan stumped over to the desk, swinging the chair around to face me, eyebrows raised skeptically.

I leaned against the wall, picking idly at my fingernails while I searched for a good way to begin. I took several deep breaths, the knot in my gut tightening when Jimmy started to fidget. He didn't say anything though, and he didn't try to leave. I flicked on the light, more to give myself another few seconds of something to do than for a desire for illumination.

I had promised myself, when I went to the mansion, that I would tell him the truth. That I would fix everything that was broken and start fresh. I had convinced myself that I had changed. Changed for the better. But I hadn't. I was still the same man that was selfish enough to watch his own brother walk away. The man who was willing to do _anything_ to hurt him—the man willing to rip away the woman who held his brother's heart. _Selfish_. _Cruel. Ruthless. _

I sucked in a final breath, "We were brothers." My voice caught on the next words, and I worked my tongue around in my mouth. "You knew that already though."

Logan snorted, "That's damn right. If you aren't gonna tell me anything new than I'm leaving." He started to stand, the chair creaking slightly.

"No, wait." I grimaced at the pleading in my voice. The last thing I wanted to do was look weak in front of this man.

_We stood, side by side, at the edge of town. Jimmy was rubbing his scruffy beard, eyes wide and shocked. _

"_You killed him."_

_I glanced down at the man, his head hanging on by a greasy thread of skin. "What other choice did I have? He would have killed us if he had known. You know that." I kicked his head away from his body, watched it roll down the hill. "I did it for you." _

"_You always say that!" Jimmy inched farther into the woods, feet leaving mudding tracks in the soft earth. It smelled like spring, like fresh earth and thawing shit. Like rot and grime blood. Always like blood. "When are we going to be done with the killing? When are we gonna be safe?" _

_I gritted my teeth. "We're never going to be safe, brother. We're different and _they're _afraid of us." _

"_They wouldn't be afraid if we didn't scare them." He gestured wildly. "We could _try_ to be normal." _

_I shook my head. "We've tried! God knows I've tried. You go right ahead and try to explain to these _nice_ people why papa bear here doesn't have a head. You try to explain to them why you don't get any older. Why I look like this!" I snarled, turning to slash at a tree trunk in frustration. "Maybe you can _blend in_ but I can't." _

"_You could if you tried!" Jimmy's hands reached out for me._

_I slapped them away, "You think I don't? The only thing we're ever going to be good at is killing. That's what we were born to do. That's what we'll do until the end of fucking time." I threw up my hands. "The only time we're _ever_ normal is when there's a war." _

"We were brothers, but that was a long time ago. We lived here. No…you lived here. I lived in the shack in the woods with my father." I paused, listening for any noise in the hallway. There was no need for anyone else to hear this.

"This was your room. Your mother was a good woman. Kind. Generous. Weak." I stared at him, "Do I need to continue?"

Logan's jaw tightened, his lips shifting.

"You don't even remember the woman. Don't get to defensive." I held my hands up in a silent apology. Logan leaned back in his chair, crossing his arms. Settling in for the long haul.

"You were a sickly child. I did housework. Cleaned the stables, swept the fireplaces, tended the gardens. All that Cinderella shit."

"You lived with your father?" Logan stared at me. Hard. "You said we were brothers."

I sighed, "I'm getting to that part, whelp." I met his eyes until he looked away, and then began again. "Years passed. You grew up. Our father, you didn't know he was yours, came to lay with your slut of a mother one night. She shot your mother, your father. You killed him." I scratched the back of my neck, remembering the burning itch of all the whippings. "One of the best days of my life."

"We ran into the woods. I taught you all sorts of life skills. Turned you into a killer instead of a crying little boy."

"_Please. I need to stop. Victor, please! I can't keep going." _

_I adjusted the deer across my shoulders, and paused for just long enough for Jimmy to catch up to me. "You'll get stronger. Just ignore how much it hurts." My own shoulders and back were aching, but that wasn't a new experience. It was better than spending all day kneeling and scrubbing floors. _

_I slowed down anyway, slogging along through the weeds. Jimmy caught the edge of my ragged jacket in his fists and some of the dried blood flaked off his knuckles. The deer was his. His first. I had wanted to celebrate, but the owner of the land had found us somehow. Threatened to call the authorities. American was a different place. There wasn't so much forest to hide in. We needed to keep moving. _

"_We're not going that much farther." I lied so easily to him now. It didn't even make me feel guilty now. It was for his own good. The reality of the world would kill him. He wasn't ready. _

"When you were old enough to fight I taught you to be a soldier." I glanced up at him, focusing on his frown. "Do you remember any of this?"

He face wrinkled, "Maybe." Then he sighed, "No, I don't." For once there was no anger in his voice.

I moved forward reflexively, crouching in front of him. "It's alright. Maybe something else is better." _Something more painful._

"We fought in every war, from the civil war to world war II. And then everything changed." I leaned back against my heels, and stole myself to continue. "Striker. You remember him?"

"Sure. He's an ass." Logan seemed relieved to remember something, even if it was just a name.

"He recruited us for a special project. Project X." I raised an eyebrow, and watched as Logan's hands clenched into fists. "We were looking for adamantium. You and me and a couple of other mutants. The first other mutants we'd met. It went well for a couple of years. Then you had a change of heart about our methods." I forced myself to pause. To let him ask questions.

"Methods?"

I sighed. "My methods…"

"Which were?" He was leaning forward, hands resting on his knees. Knuckles white with tension.

"I killed an entire village of innocent people." Even now I didn't feel regret for killing those people. Only for losing Jimmy. Only for losing the only person who had _ever_ been able to keep me even slightly human.

Logan jerked backward, eyes widening until they were mostly whites. He sat in silence for several impossibly long beats of my heart.

"I remember." He pushed his chair just the tiniest bit away from me. "You abandoned me. You let me way away alone." He glared, "You broke your promise. You always break your promise." He didn't even yell. The cold anger, the sheer disappointment in his voice hurt worse. It stabbed at my heart more painfully than his claws ever could. If I had been able to, I would have walked away and jumped off a cliff. But I was too far in. And I was too selfish to give up my life for the sake of his feelings. I needed to make him understand.

"There is nothing in my life that I regret more than that moment." Actually, there were several other moments that were far worse. But none of them hurt quite so badly as watching my little brother turn and walk away.


	15. Chapter 15

The door behind us creaked ever so slightly. Logan practically leapt over me in his hast to jerk the handle open.

"What the hell are you doing?" Marie hovered, eyes the size of dinner plates, just on the other side of the threshold. The rest of the kids, and Storm, were gathered only slightly farther down the hall.

"Fucking kids." I ran my fingers through my hair, and jerked Marie into the room. Maybe she could help. Even if she couldn't, at least she could serve as a lookout to keep the others from getting close enough to hear.

Logan pushed in between us. "Don't touch her."

I stepped back, "I wasn't going to."

He glared at me, obviously doubting my words, but slowly lowered his hackles. "Fine."

I turned to Marie. "Can you help?"

For a second she looked shocked. "I don't know. Maybe. I haven't ever tried."

"Can you keep from killing us?" The worst that would happen was nothing. She might be able to somehow transmit memories. Hell if I knew.

"Yeah."

"Then try." I waited for Logan to stop glaring, and then pushed her down into the chair. "What do you want us to do?"

"I think it might work if I grab both of you at the same time." She frowned, pushing the strands of white hair out of her face. "I touched the Professor not to long ago. I might be able to give some to Saber… Victor's memories to you." She gazed up at Logan with such absolute trust that I wanted to hit her. No one ever looked at me like that. I shook off my jealousy.

"What do I do?"

She smirked, "Just thinking should be enough. I wouldn't want to strain you too much."

I growled, "Watch your mouth, kid."

"You watch yours, ass." Logan snapped, the tendons in his hands creaking slight with the effort of holding his claws in.

"Easy boys. Everyone just play nice." Marie held up her hands. "Come on. I don't have all day."

As much as her lack of fear pissed me off, I had to give the girl credit. I could count the number of people who were willing to get between me and Logan on one hand. Well, half a hand actually. Logan wrapped his fingers around hers, wincing slightly. I slapped my palm against hers.

"What now?"

"Just remember." Marie's voice sounded strained.

I nodded, forcing myself to dredge up the safe that I had put all my feelings into. All those painful memories. Logan look curiously at me, and I realized that I had sucked in a sharp breath.

_I could feel her heart racing against my hands. The thin trickle of blood the ran across the pads of my fingers. The softness of her lips against the side of my neck. I grinned. Vengeance. It made my pulse race. The only drug that had any affect on me. _

"_That's right. Bleed for me." I eased the plunger of the needle down, and felt her heart still. Her eyes closed. I tossed her into the brush, smearing my blood covered hand across the trunk of one of the trees. It was so sad. She was such a _nice_ girl. It would break his heart. But that was the point. He needed to feel what it was like to be alone. To be so alone. _

_Silverfox wasn't good enough for my brother anyway. He's feelings weren't real. She was a lying whore. I was doing it for his own good. He could be so much more. I knew he could be more. _

_I could see him, staring at her. There was still love in his eyes, even after she had told him everything. He _forgave _her. But he would not forgive me. I didn't want his forgiveness anyway. Forgiveness was a weakness. Forgiveness was something that only _humans_ bothered with. He needed to be stronger. Especially now that Striker was going to take him instead of me. No human could survive that. He needed to accept that he was an animal. _

_I could feel his back pressed against mine. I felt some of the tension ease out of my shoulders. Tension that I hadn't ever realized was there. We were going to die. That _thing_ Striker had turned his son into was some sort of demon. But Jimmy was back. My brother was back, and willing to watch my six. If I died at least I would die knowing that he may be able to forgive me. We fought until the demon fell, and stood panting on the edge of the reactor for several blessedly calm seconds. Then it collapsed. I leapt away, as far as I could. When I hit the ground, everything went dark. _

_When I jerked back, panting in a way that meant my heart had stopped, I searched for Jimmy. I scanned the rubble, hoping that he would have stayed. Maybe he woke me up…Maybe he…But no. He wasn't there. Just the smell of dust and the sound of still-settling debris. I wandered around the island, searching for him. I called his name. I found a patch of his blood, and a pool of hers. Her body lay a short distance away. _

_Something was wrong. Very wrong. He would never have left her, eyes open, in the dirt. He had loved her. I searched, moving in circles away from her body. Hoping that he was lying there too. But he was gone. So far gone that I couldn't even track him. I left then, slinking away from the island with my tail in between my legs. I had been wrong. There was no forgiveness in him. I went into the forest, with my thoughts and my anger, and I hid. _

I dragged myself out of the stream of memories and ripped my hand out of Marie's grip. Logan's eyes jerked open, staring at me glassily.

"Why?"

"Because I don't know any other way."

"You destroyed everything that I loved."

I wanted to make some sort of justification, but I couldn't. Not any more. "I know."

"Now you want me to forgive you?"

I shrugged, "That'd be great."

Logan shook his head, "No."

"Jimmy." Maybe he knew, maybe he understood. I needed to explain anyway. "I can't do this without you. I've watched to many people die." _I need you so I can be human._

"No." He shook his head. "I can't."

I forced down the surge of anger. "Fine." I grabbed my jacket off the bed, and turned back to him, "I'll find you if you need me." _I promise I won't leave you again_. And then, like the coward that I was, I slunk out of the room.

The kids were gone, no doubt forced to retreat into the others rooms by Storm. I prowled down the stairs and into the forest. The hut was dusty and creaked in the wind. I curled by the fireplace, on the single rotting rug, and waited for the sun to rise.


	16. Chapter 16

Over the years we met and parted, like waves crashing against a shore. I tried to keep out of trouble. I tried to stay on the same side as him. Things changed, things always changed. One war ended and another began. Mutants faded into the background as more pressing problems rose.

I went back to the mansion, but there were only strangers there. The building was taller and longer. The grounds showed smalls signs of use. Patches of dirt in front of the soccer goals. Trees with more dead branches than living ones. He wasn't there.

It was years before I found him again. In a bar. As far from the old estate house and the hut in the woods as we could get.

"Fancy seeing you here, whelp." I slumped onto the stool next to him, and flagged down the bartender. My tailored suit, still sharply creased from the dry cleaners, was starting to attract attention.

Logan grunted into his beer and scratched idly at his scruffy hair. "Yeah. Fancy that."

We sat in silence, ignoring the scantily-clad women and the testosterone-fueled men. Some things never changed, and it had been a long time since anyone had dared raise a fist against me. Had dared attempt to seduce me. The stools on either side of Logan and me were empty. A space created from fame and reputation. The world knew our faces now. The billionaire investor and the mutant hero. Over the years our roles had switched, but the result had been the same. We had been pulled back together like the water in a river.

"You always did say you'd come back." Logan muttered into his beer.

"You're my brother." It had taken me to many years to come up with my answer. My explanation.

He looked up, a smirk curling the edges of his lips, "Guess we're stuck with each other."

"Guess we are."

Logan took another pull on his drink. "Why did you keep coming back?"

"Because you keep me human." It was so easy now. So easy to tell the truth. "Because you've always carried me."

He nodded, scanning the bar with too-old eyes in a face that would never age. "Always will, brother."

A/N

I guess that's the end. It took a lot longer than I expected, and I'm not completely happy with it. It's been a little too long since I started this project, I guess. The plot got a little tangled and warped along the way. Thanks for sticking with it, guys. As always, reviews are welcome.


End file.
